Solus
by Felony Melanie
Summary: A traitor opened the gates of Hogwarts, allowing Voldemort and his gang of Death Eaters to commence a bloody massacre. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny made it out alive, and now they have to save Harry. Herm's POV, HHr-angsty stuff here. updated 10 1
1. 1

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Disclaimer This will be the only disclaimer in this story. I do not own anything. All of the spells are Latin-based. I'm writing this simply for pleasure, not for profit.

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Introduction

Once I thought that the snow disappeared every Spring. I thought that lustrous, green plants grew in it's place. I thought that when the sun set and dawned, it was the most beautiful thing known to mankind, like the rebirth of the Earth. The changes in season always fascinated me. How the world could go from being cold, icy, and dead, to alive, and bursting with color within weeks is something I will always marvel over.

Sometimes, if I try hard enough, I can remember Hogwarts during Autumn, when the air smelled of spices and the leaves blew all over the grounds. I can sometimes remember sitting outside beneath an Oak tree with Harry and Ron, reviewing notes for an exam on a lazy Sunday afternoon, surrounded by chattering students.

It all changed when He came. When a traitor from inside Hogwarts opened the gates and let the Death Eaters flood onto the grounds, thus sparking the bloodiest massacre since Grindewald. I still don't know who the traitor is.

There was no mercy. Many where caught unawares. They were dead within seconds. Some had time to pull out their wands, but we were so outnumbered, they were too killed. It was a slaughter.

A few did the smart thing.

We ran as fast and as far as we could. We took to the mountains and freezing temperatures to try to save our own necks. Salazar Slytherin would have been proud.

And we didn't stop, we haven't stopped. We're still running, we've been running for so long that we can hardly remember what exactly we're running from anymore. We don't even know who else is running, aside from our small group of outlaws.

But I know what I'm running from. I'm running from the memories. I'm running from my past.

And each day, I get one day closer to death, and one day further away from Harry.

But I'll still run. I'll run as long as I have a single breath in my body. I swore to myself that I wouldn't get caught. I wouldn't end up like the rest.

One day this war will end, and I _will_ be there to see Voldemort fall. And I'll see life bloom once again, once this cold has ended.

I _will_ survive to see the hot summer days at Hogwarts again.

For Harry.

For my parents.

For me.

And for everything good and pure in the world that has been forced to hide during these awful times.

The blood of our friends and families will not have been spilled in vain.

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A/N Reviews would be greatly appreciated. This story will be depressing, and possibly a bit gory near the end. Those with weak stomaches should not read. Most of the story will be from Hermione's POV, but some parts will switch. Those parts will be obvious or clearly labeled. Thanks for reading.


	2. 2

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1

When you first look at the house, you see nothing more than a worn-down cabin. Ice glazes the dirty windows, and snow cushions the weak wooden frame that appears as though a strong enough wind could topple it over. We have carved a path in the waist-high snow leading to the front door which is battered and old with the brown paint chipping away on the edges. Walking along this path, as you near the old building, you can hear the roof's groan as it sags from the weight of last night's snow, or the snaps of the wooden joints as it sways in the wind.

The inside of the building is as cold as the outside. The wooden floors are knobbly and constantly wet from the snow that has blown in through the cracks in the walls. Next to the entryway is a meek little living room with a moldy old couch that has no definite color in front of an empty fireplace that has not held a fire for years. Continuing down the hall, you'll reach a junction of three doorways. The one on your right leads you to the kitchen and a round wooden table with four chairs stationed around it and no food in sight. The first door on your left is to a small bedroom with one bed and a desk. The final door leads to a larger room with two beds and a door to the outside.

To the left of the front door through which you came is another sitting area with lumpy old armchairs scattared haphazardly about the room. The walls throughout the house are bare. There are no rugs on the ground. The ceiling leaks. There is no way to keep warm at night except for the threadbare blanket that you cling to in your sleep as you pray for the nightmares to go away.

This house, this lonesome, dirty house, has been my home for the past year. For a year I've been eternally cold, with each passing day sucking more of my will to live from my now frail body. Food is scarce, and when we do find some, we ration it out and save it, though saving it for what, I do not know. Maybe for when we really need it. Maybe for when the Death Eaters finally find us, and we can eat our last meal of stale bits of bread and moldy cheese. "We'll eat like royalty," Ginny muttered once as she stored some bread in her pockets. "That's what will happen. Food fit for a king."

But I know that we'll be found one day. Voldemort's power has increased tenfold, and one day he's bound to stumble upon our humble little cabin. Maybe he won't even bother looking inside and just burn it and us to ashes. What a pleasant thought. At least I'll be warm before I die.

Ron and Ginny share the house with me. We were lucky. We got out alive. A lot of people couldn't escape the castle.

Ron and Ginny are my only family now. My parents were murdered, I know that much. A letter from the Ministry a day before the Hogwarts attack informed me of that. Voldemort didn't even bother killing them himself. Bellatrix Lestrange did it with a group of the then recently escaped Azkaban prisoners. There was no evidence of torture or a struggle. I like to think that my parents died peacefully, and that they were proud of me when they saw what I was fighting against.

Sometimes I'm glad that I know my parent's fate. It's better than worrying with all the questions that never seem to diminish in size.

I haven't seen Harry since the day that the snow started a year ago. The day that Hogwarts was taken. He swore to me, once the attack had begun, that he would find me. He swore that he would survive. That was right before he ran down to the Entrance Hall to battle the ocean of Death Eaters. Ron, Ginny, and I, meanwhile, escaped through Harry's tunnel to Honeydukes and have been running ever since.

We do not know our exact location. We are miles from any town or sign of civilization, on the edge of a wild, thick forest. To our north is the beginnings of a mountain range, where the hills become steeper in size. These are the mountains that hide Hogwarts. To our south are the trees.

This is my home, and it will remain so until my final hour when I will battle the Death Eaters in a losing fight, certain of my death, but just as certain of my beliefs and the fact that good triumphs over evil, in the end.

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A hand on my shoulder snaps me out of my reverie. I glance upwards and nod to my companion.

"Couldn't sleep again, Hermione?" Ron asks, taking the seat across from me at the kitchen table.

I look down at the mug of coffee in my hands and shake my head. No, sleep, like everything else in my life, does not come easy. I'm haunted constantly by the faces and cries of the dead and dying so long ago at the Hogwarts attack. In my sleep I hear them asking for help, asking for me to save them, but I can't, and I watch them die all over again. If I don't dream of the casualties, I dream of Harry. I dream of the last time he held my hand, the last time his lips brushed mine, and then I dream of him battling Voldemort. And dying.

"I reckon it's going to snow again tomorrow," Ron says conversationally.

Of course it's going to snow. It's snowed every day for the past year. Snow is the silent curse, in my mind. You do not know it's there until you've stepped out into it and sunken in to your neck. Story of my life.

I nod to Ron. No point in sparking an argument with him now. Too early. And I'm too tired anyway.

"You really should try to sleep," Ron says.

I look up at him. "You're not sleeping."

"I've slept more than you."

I lean over my drink again and clutch it tighter in my trembling hands. The steam from our breath is visible in the freezing air, but I have long ago learned to ignore the cold. "When do you think Harry will get here?"

"Oh, any day now," Ron says, giving me a weak smile.

It is a common ritual for us to talk about Harry as though he has just gone on vacation, and is due to return. Neither of us have really accepted the fact that he could be. . . dead. The empty seat at the kitchen table is left for Harry, and we are careful to never sit in it.

Whenever we are feeling particularly downcast, one of us asks the other when Harry will come back. It reignites hope.

Ron is now twiddling his thumbs, staring at the scratched wooden surface with a dazed expression relaxing his features.

I catch myself staring at him sometimes. He never talks to me about what he's feeling, but his eyes say it all. He doesn't know how his family is, whether they're dead or alive, and I know he thinks about them constantly. Then, on top of that, he thinks about Harry. He thinks about Harry a lot, it seems. Harry was like a brother to him. _Is_ like a brother to him.

I remind myself that Harry isn't necessarily. . . dead. But just thinking about him again makes my breath catch in my throat, and all I can think is: He promised.

I stand up quickly, the chair screeching on the floor. "I'm going for a walk," I say softly.

I disappear into the bedroom I share with Ginny quickly and gather up my coat and scarf. I use the back door to exit the house.

It is pitch black outside, and there is a biting wind sweeping through the land, immediately stinging my eyes. I wrap the scarf tighter around my neck and squint against the wind. I stumble along in the snow, not daring to light my wand yet. If Death Eaters are in this area, they would see the light. It's risky enough leaving the house, but I need to be alone, before I break from holding everything in.

With my arms stretched out in front of me, I eventually locate a tree. I walk on, from tree to tree, until I'm sure I'm fairly deep in the forest.

"_Lumos!_" I whisper.

The light burns my eyes for a second, but they adjust quickly. I walk further into the forest, and after a while, the wind is no longer blowing harshly, the trunks of the surrounding trees blocking it.

I walk for a bit, and then stumble to my knees. For a moment I just stare at the fresh, powdery snow beneath me. So calm. So pure. I slash it out of the way with my fingers and collapse.

I hold my head in my hands as I cry, all of the emotions I've been holding inside for so long are exploding out of me now. I'm crying for my parents, for Harry, for Hogwarts, for all of those people who died. I'm crying for Ron, for Ginny, for me.

I'm crying because I can't handle it anymore. I can't stand hiding out anymore, running all the time. Freedom? This is no freedom. We're prisoners who think they're free. But we're not free. We can't do anything. We can't even get warm. Once again, Voldemort wins.

I've never made noise when I cried before, but this time is different. My heart is breaking, and it hurts, and I scream.

My body is breaking. My lungs can't get oxygen. My eyes are tearing up so badly that I can't see. I beat the ground with my fists and take in a sharp breath before screaming again.

Here, at least, I can be weak, and no one will know, except for these ancient trees around me, and I know they won't betray me. I have to be strong.

An hour later, I wipe my eyes and head back to the cabin.

And so is my life.

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A/N It's short, I know, but the chapters will get longer. They always do. Review, tell me what you think.


	3. 3

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2

Every morning I lay in bed, whether I have slept that night or not, and watch the vibrant colors of the sunrise penetrate the small window in Ginny and my bedroom. In my mind I always hope that today will be the day that Harry comes. I always imagine seeing him appear over the mountains, just a black dot that grows larger against the pure white background. I watch his progress, and when he is near enough, I run out to meet him, and we hug, and we kiss, and it's all okay.

But it's just a dream.

Ginny always gets out of bed before I do, before the sunrise is finished. She slips silently out of the room, yawning and stretching, leaving me alone. I can always hear her greeting Ron in the kitchen, and then the scrape of the chair as she sits down. Then the house is silent again.

I usually wait a while to get out of bed, giving Ginny and Ron private time to talk. Sometimes I feel like I am intruding on their personal conversations when I'm around, so I try to give them as much time alone as I can.

On this particular morning, I slip out the back door after Ginny has left the room, pulling on my coat and scarf. The sky is a vibrant blue, and the Sun reflects powerfully on the blindingly white ground. I squint my eyes and head out to the forest again, trekking my familiar path.

I am welcomed into the dense forest by a gentle breeze and the sweet scent of the trees. If not for the two-feet-deep snow all around me, this would be a beautiful day. About 50 meters into the forest, I spot a white rabbit scrambling out of sight. As I pass by the spot where it disappeared, I turn my head and find a tunnel in the snow dug next to the base of a tree. I can see the rabbit within, looking out, watching me as I pass. I continue to watch it, not looking where I'm going, when my foot catches on something and I fall.

Brushing the snow out of my face, I roll to my back and look to see what I tripped on. There's something poking out of the snow, and I crawl over to see what it is.

I brush away the top layer of snow, and scream.

Two lifeless, gray, human eyes are staring out at me, surrounding a sharp nose and underneath a mop of blonde hair.

I scramble away in my surprise, and cling to a nearby tree, squeezing my eyes shut and taking deep breaths.

The eyes of the corpse are burned to the inside of my eyelids. I feel a sob escape my lips, and shut them promptly. I take a few more minutes to recover, and then crawl back over to the body.

I feel nauseous.

The man is young, maybe in his late twenties. Blue crystals have formed at the corners of the eyes and nose. His lips are bright blue and parted slightly, and his skin is a ghostly white. Gently I brush away the snow from his body.

By the amount of snow covering him, I can tell that he has not been here for long. The most recent snow came last night, which means this man died here yesterday.

He is wearing black wizards robes with no markings on them. I search his pockets to try and find some form of identification, but the only thing he is carrying is his wand which is clamped in his hand.

Sighing, I try to move him from the path, but he is heavy. Instead, I end up standing over him, looking sadly at his dead body.

I decide to go get Ron, and cover the body partially in the snow.

"Stay here," I say, not quite knowing why.

I go as fast as I can in the deep snow as I head back to the cabin. My heart is pumping hard. I haven't seen a dead body since my grandmother died, and that was when I was nine. Seeing her body was not scary or nauseating, though.

When I finally reach the cabin, I burst in through the back door.

"Ron!" I yell, running out to the kitchen.

"What?" Ron says, standing up from the table and drawing his wand. "What is it, Hermione?"

"There's a dead body out in the forest. I know for a fact it wasn't there two days ago."

"Do you know who it is?" he asks, moving out of the kitchen to his bedroom.

"No, I don't recognize him," I say.

Ron pulls on his coat. Ginny appears next to me with her coat and scarf on.

"Ginny, maybe you should stay here," Ron says, buttoning his coat.

"Don't be stupid," she says.

Ron gives her a disapproving look and then snaps his eyes to mine. "Take me to him."

I nod and lead the way out of the cabin.

It takes us a few minutes to get to the body, and when we do Ginny and Ron both take disgusted steps backwards.

"Oh, Merlin," Ron says after a moment, becoming braver and approaching the corpse. "No identification?"

"No," I answer, "nothing."

Ron sits on his heels and just looks at the guy. "Sorry, buddy. Just a few more minutes and you would have been at our place."

"Wait," Ginny says, recovering from her surprise. "What if it wasn't a coincidence that he was here?"

I look at her, and she looks back at me, and it's as though I can see what she's thinking.

Ron is clueless. "What do you mean?"

"Move," I say, approaching the body. I seize the stiff left arm, and yank up the sleeve.

"Merlin," Ron breaths again. "He's a Death Eater."

I look at Ron. "They could know we're here. We should move immediately."

He nods jerkily. "Okay. Yeah. Yeah, you're right." He swallows hard and stands up.

"We can't go back to the cabin," I say.

"I have to," Ron says. "I left a few things there."

I bite my lip as I look at Ron. We really should leave immediately. "Fine, just. . . don't linger."

We leave the body and head back to the cabin. We are just about to leave the forest when we hear a shout.

"_MORSMORDRE!_"

A blast of green light blinds us, and we look up to see the Dark Mark hovering above our cabin.

Ron seizes my arm and pulls me and Ginny back behind a tree.

"Burn it," an icy voice hisses.

Though I've never come face to face with the wizard, I know who it is. Only one creature on this planet has that voice, capable of chilling your blood and lighting a fire of hatred in your heart at the same time.

Voldemort is here.

Ron is still holding my arm, and his grip tightens when he hears the voice of the Dark Lord.

"_Incendio!_" cries several voices.

I can feel the heat from where we're hiding. They're burning our cabin.

"Burn the forest as well," Voldemort says.

"My Lord?"

"There may be more hiding in the forest. Burn it, or suffer the consequences of questioning my orders."

"Yes, my lord, beg your pardon." 

The voice of the Death Eater is hauntingly familiar to me, and I can't quite place it until,

"Wormtail, you are to burn the forest and everything in it and Apparate to Hogwarts. Your blunders are many, let's see if you can't do this simple task right, hmm?"

"Burn the forest!" Wormtail yells, a slight edge of anger in his voice.

"Move!" Ron growls and drags us along the tree line. Flames erupt from the tree we we were just hiding behind, and the fire spreads quickly, leaping from tree to tree.

"We have to get to the hills," I breath in his ear. "The fire's spreading too quickly. . . we can't escape it."

He glances quickly over his shoulder where the roar of flames is destroying everything. "If they see us, we're dead."

Ginny pulls out her wand. "Well then we'd better run fast."

I glance over my shoulder also, and stop behind a large tree, and look out to the hills. "Okay, on three we run. One. . . . Two. . . . Three."

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Harry

Lying prone on my back I can clearly see the brilliant ensemble of stars, twinkling peacefully millions of miles away. As another shudder shakes my body, I wish I was with them, close to their heat and beauty.

I know I'm going into shock. The blood from my neck is staining the snow around me a deep red, which is odd because I can no longer feel the wound. Everything feels as though it is numb.

Someone leans over me.

"Hang in there, Harry," they say, each word seeming to take a millenium to reach my ears.

I can taste blood in my mouth. Perhaps I bit my tongue when the curse grazed my neck.

"He's bleeding internally, there's nothing I can do."

My eyes roll in my head. I struggle to bring the person into focus, but everything has disappeared to me; I can't see the stars anymore. My chest heaves, and I cough, sputtering blood everywhere. I try to speak and say "Help me," but all I do is open my mouth and gag.

My body is trembling harder now.

"He can't hold on for much longer. . . ."

Even as those words are said, I feel my breathing slow down, and my whole body slack.

Someone is holding my hand, I realize, and try to grip back, but my fingers aren't responding.

No, I can't die. Not here, not now. Not after being held so long by the Death Eaters. Not after finally escaping. I can't die now. I need to see Hermione. There's so much I still need to do. Hermione needs me. I need her.

With my last ounce of strength I finally grasp the hand holding mine, and pull it to my chest, resting it over my heart.

"I'm sorry it ended this way, Harry. I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

No, no, no, no, no, stop saying that. I'm not going to die. It's not my time yet.

"I tried to stop the curse. I promise I did, but I couldn't get it. I swear I couldn't."

I know. I know, but stop talking and save me! Please! Help me!

"I'm sorry I opened those gates. I didn't want to, I swear, but they were going to kill my parents!"

I close my eyes. My mind is struggling to put together the words being spoken. I drag in a long, painful breath, as though this is the last time I'll feel oxygen in my lungs. My fingers flex slightly, still grasping the hand of the traitor, and I can actually feel my body shutting down.

I release my heavy breath, and I'm dimly aware that my hand falls to the snow. My eyes are already closed, but a whole new wave of darkness shields my eyes.

And I realize I'm about to die. Here. On the icy grounds of Hogwarts, accompanied by two Death Eaters who felt mercy for me. If I were not terrified of everything at the moment, I would laugh at the irony.

I feel terribly cold now, and feel no need to take another breath.

The end is here. I get to see my parents and Sirius again.

And then. . . I feel. . . nothing. . . .

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A/N Sorry this took a bit of time. I rewrote this three times because I couldn't figure out how I wanted this chapter to go. I'm still not terribly pleased with the end result, but hey, I'll take what I can get. Review, people, it encourages me to write quicker and better.

peace

felony melanie


	4. 4

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3

Hermione

After running past those Death Eaters and coming out alive, I feel like I can do anything. We made it to the hills alright, and traveled for a while before finding a nice little cave big enough for all of us to lay down. My heart has yet to stop pumping hard against my ribcage from the adrenaline rush.

We are in the cave sitting quietly when we hear the noise of something moving outside. I hear a human voice, and my heart leaps up to my throat while my hand instantly plunges into my pocket for my wand.

We stay still, hoping that they will leave, but I know all too well that the trail we left in the snow was easily tracked. I mentally curse myself for not realizing that, but I had been so worried that I didn't even consider the possibility of leaving a trail.

A head appears in the cave entrance, and we all point our wands to the man.

"Whoa!" the man says, kneeling down and exposing his hands. "Whoa, I come in peace."

"You're a Death Eater," I snarl, seeing the mask dangling around his neck, just below his long brown hair.

"Yes, I am," he admits, "but I have a message for you."

"Speak quickly before I change my mind and kill you," Ron hisses through gritted teeth.

The man nods and immediately starts talking. "Harry Potter is alive, though barely. He was held in the dungeons of Hogwarts for this past year, then yesterday he escaped when they brought him his dinner. A troupe of Death Eaters hunted him down, and his neck was grazed by a Reducto Curse, and he was hit with several other curses, knocking him unconscious for a bit. The Death Eaters left, believing him dead, but another Death Eater and I lingered behind, and we did all we could to try to save him, but he's in horrible shape. He died on us for a few seconds, stopped breathing and everything, but he came back to life. How that is possible, I have no idea. He is in the forest on the Hogwarts grounds, in the clearing where Harry found the dead unicorn in his first year. He is alone now, I wish to maintain my cover; the same goes for my partner. Please, locate him and give him the medical treatment he needs, the reign of the Dark Lord has gone on for too long."

"What's your name?" Ron snaps, acting as though he didn't hear a word the man said.

"McHulland, and that's all you need to know for now," the man says.

"Who is your 'partner?'" I ask. "And how do you know about that clearing where the dead unicorn was?"

"I cannot name my partner," McHulland says, bowing his head in apology. "I do not mind risking my own life, but my friend has his entire life ahead of him, I dare not put him in danger of exposure. I know of the clearing because I do."

I stare keenly at the man, at his scarred face and black eyes, and the brown hair matted down around his head. "You've risked your life coming to tell us this, but why? Why would you want to save Harry?"

The man looks at me as though I am dense. "Harry needs to be saved because he is the only one who can kill the Dark Lord, as stated in the prophesy given 18 years ago. If he does not fulfill his destiny, the Dark Lord's power will grow and soon it will not matter to him whether you are friend or foe — you will die anyway. The entire Wizarding World depends on Harry's survival."

I have nothing to save to this. I know exactly which prophesy he is speaking of, but it was smashed nearly 2 years ago during our 5th year at Hogwarts. I turn, instead, towards Ron who's expression is a mixture of shock, anger, and disbelief.

"You're bluffing," Ron says resolutely.

The Death Eater sighs and runs his hand back over his head, pushing down his hood. He closes his eyes for a moment, as if gaining strength, and then speaks again. "When I return to Hogwarts, the Dark Lord will kill me. It is my fate, but I do not want to go to the grave knowing that I never did anything to stop this war. I have given you information that you can choose to use, or not. Whether or not you trust me is none of my concern. At least I know, in my heart, that I did not give the Dark Lord a clear path to utter control. The rest, I leave in your hands. It is your decision, now. I have done all I can."

He disappears from the cave, and we hear his heavy steps through the snow before a loud crack informs us that he has Apparated.

"Bloody idiot," Ron sighs. "He knew You-Know-Who would kill him, yet he still returned to him."

I turn to look at Ginny. She is as white as the snow outside, each freckle on her nose standing out clearly. "What do you think, Ginny?" I ask.

She snaps her head up and looks at me. "I-If Harry is. . . is _alive_. . . we can't just leave him. . . ."

"It could be an ambush!" Ron hollers, rounding on Ginny. "What if that git was just lying about everything, and You-Know-Who is just waiting for us in that forest?"

"I believed him!" Ginny says hotly, her ears reddening.

"Just like you believed Tom Riddle?" Ron says scathingly.

As quickly as Ginny has reddened, she has now paled again. "How. . . . How _dare you!_"

"I'm just saying you're too quick to trust people," Ron says defensively.

"No you weren't. You think I'm gullible. You think I don't know anything, do you? You'll always think of me as some little girl. Well I'll tell you something, _Ronald_, I'm sixteen years old. I'm not little anymore, and I can, in fact, make my own decisions. And I've decided to go to Hogwarts to save Harry." She heads towards the entrance to the cave, her face defiant, her hand clenched around her wand.

"Wait a second, Ginny," I say, holding out my hand and holding her back.

"No, Hermione," Ginny says, ripping her arm from my grasp. "Not this time. We have an opportunity to go do something, actually _do_ something, and you want to just sit here, waiting for someone to find us?"

"No," I say, slightly offended, "I just wanted you to wait. I'm coming with you."

Ginny's eyes widen as a smile tickles the corner of her lips. "Really?"

I nod, and look at Ron. "Well, General, I trust you'll hold the camp while we're gone?"

"Shut up, you're not leaving me here," Ron says, his ears burning red. He climbs out of the cave with us, and I catch him giving Ginny an angry glare.

I look ahead to the mountain ranges ahead of us. The sky above us is blue, but ahead towards the direction of Hogwarts, the sky is filled with angry gray clouds. Ginny and Ron stand on either side of me.

"Looks cheerful over there, doesn't it?" Ron says humorously, but I can hear the small quaver of fear in his voice.

"Let's go," Ginny says, moving forward and struggling through the thick snow.

Ron follows her, and for a second I remain where I am. I look back towards our hut, and see black smoke staining the sky. Turning back towards Hogwarts, I take a deep breath.

Ron yells to me to hurry up, and I nod.

"I'm coming, Harry," I say quietly, following in Ron and Ginny's path.

-

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Harry

There's a loud thumping in my ears as I ease back into consciousness. My throat is sore and dry as I take a breath. I try to open my eyes, but I have no energy to even do that.

I'm aware of few things. There's a bandage around my neck, a cloak acting as a blanket covering my body, and the burning sun staining my eyelids red.

I take another trembling breath, and slip back out of consciousness.

....

I wake up again. It's colder now, and I realize it must be night. The thumping in my ears is still there, but this time I realize it's my blood pumping through my veins.

I don't know where I am, I don't remember why I'm here, and I don't know if I can move.

I try focusing my energy into moving, but I get tired quickly. I twitch my hand, but that's it.

My scar is burning painfully, meaning only one thing. Voldemort just killed someone.

I'm so tired and cold. I hope someone finds me before the werewolves.

....

It's still nighttime when I wake again. I don't know if it's the same night as before. I suppose I could have been asleep for days.

I open my eyes this time. I can see the sky above me, glittering with stars. It's a full moon tonight.

I wonder where Professor Lupin is. I hope he survived.

....

"Harry!"

I wake up to someone calling my name.

"Harry, wake up!"

I try opening my eyes, and succeed a little bit, but it's daytime and the sun is directly above me. I shut my eyes in pain.

"He's waking up. . . ."

"We need to hurry. . . him somewhere safe. . . ."

The voices move in and out of clarity amidst a loud rushing noise; whether it is because of roaring winds or my own inability to remain conscious, I have no idea.

"Help me carry him. . . . Death Eaters. . . . Voldemort. . . ."

"Don't say the name. . . ."

". . . still bleeding. . . ."

"Hurry!"

I try moving my lips to say 'Hermione!' because I know it's her. I'd know that voice anywhere, even on the brink of death.

"Shh, Harry, don't talk. . . ."

I feel myself being lifted from the snow.

-

****

Hermione

"Hermione, you should get some sleep. Harry's not waking up any time soon."

"Quiet, Ron. What if he does wake up, and I'm not here? Besides, I'm not tired."

"Suit yourself."

I lean back over Harry's prone body. We brought him to the mountain above Hogsmeade, for lack of a better shelter. Some of Sirius' old newspapers still litter the ground, and there is still the occasional chicken bone among the loose gravel. It is haunting to be back in the place where Sirius hid for the better part of a year, and I know that when Harry wakes up he will be unhappy to be here as well, but we didn't really have a choice.

He's sleeping so quietly now. Ginny and I managed to heal the wound on his neck, along with many internal injuries, upon arriving at the cave. He's been asleep since then.

I brush my hair out of my face and turn my head. Ginny is at the entrance to the cave, looking out at the dying sun with a wistful look on her face. It has started snowing again, and the soft flakes fall from the sky soundlessly. As I watch her, Ginny turns and looks back at Harry, her brow furrowing and her lips pressing tightly together. She then turns back to the snow and the wistful look is back.

Turning my head the other way, I see Ron sitting huddled in the very back of the cave. He's clutching his legs to his chest and resting his chin on his knees, an angry scowl transforming his face. Next to him is a sack of food the Death Eaters left with Harry filled with bread, flasks of water and juice, some meat, and an apple tart.

And I look back to Harry. So calm. So peaceful. And yet. . . so troubled. So pained. I reach out and brush some of his hair from his eyes, thus uncovering his scar. I look at the jagged line for really the first time ever. I'd only glanced at it before, thinking it would be rude to stare. But Harry is asleep, and I'm free to stare without being ashamed.

I run my index finger over the pink mark. It's raised slightly from his skin, and burning with a fiery intensity. Voldemort must be up to something.

I stand up and go to the entrance of the cave.

"Hermione, what—?" Ginny starts to say, but she stops when I shake my head at her.

I stop and rip off a part of the sleeve of my cloak. Bending down, I scoop some snow into it, and wrap it up, carrying it back to Harry. I press the ice pack against his scar, hoping to cool it a bit so he won't wake up.

As I press it, he parts his lips briefly and sighs. "Hermione," he says softly.

"Shh, Harry," I hush.

After a few minutes, I toss the cloth aside, and settle back in at Harry's side. I locate his hand, and hold it in my own, thinking that maybe if I tried hard enough, I could transfer some life out of me and into him. I gently graze my thumb over the top of his hand.

It gets progressively darker in the cave as the sun goes down, and my two sleepless days start to catch up to me. Ginny has moved to the back of the cave and is sitting with Ron who has thrown an arm around her shoulders. Her head is resting on his shoulder, and she appears to be asleep. Ron, meanwhile, is watching me.

"Where do we go from here?" Ron asks, his voice barely a whisper.

I shake my head and look down. "Anywhere we can."

In a land of death where you are the prey, what choice do you have but to keep running? The primary animal instinct is survival, and despite the differences between man and beast, in the end we're both the same; we'd both rather save our own skin than go into certain death.

It's now completely dark in our cave. Neither Ron nor I dare to light a wand for fear of Death Eaters seeing the beam from the town.

I ease myself into a lying-down position next to Harry, keeping his hand tight in mine. My thoughts are whirring around in my head; thoughts of Hogwarts, of my parents, of Voldemort, of that Death Eater who told us where Harry was, the list goes on. But of all of those thoughts, only one matters. I'm with Harry again.

-

My eyes snap open. It's still dark, and it takes me a moment before I realize what has woken me, but when I do I sit bolt upright.

Harry is no longer next to me.

I scan my eyes around the cave, urging them to adjust to the darkness, but I can see no silhouette belonging to the Boy Who Lived. Panic overtakes me.

I stand up and run to the entrance of the cave and I instantly breath in a sigh of relief. Harry is sitting on the edge of the rock, gazing out on Hogsmeade. He turns and smiles at me.

"Hey," he says. "Did I wake you?"

"No," I say, brushing the hair from my face. "What are you doing out here?"

Harry shrugs. "It's always so quiet and beautiful at night. I've missed seeing the stars and moon."

A gust of wind swirls around us, and I hug myself tight. "It's cold out here, why don't you come in?"

He struggles standing up, and I have to hold a hand to his back to steady him. Once we are inside, we settle back down on the ground.

"How do you feel?" I ask, spreading the cloak across both of us.

"Alright. Nothing hurting, really, but I get short of breath really quickly. It's very annoying."

"Must be all of this fresh air," I suggest. "Are you hungry?"

He nods, specks of snow tumbling out of his jet black hair.

I snatch my wand. "_Accio food!_" The sack of food slides across the floor and stops before me. I open it up and pull out some pumpkin juice and bread.

"Where'd you get this food?" Harry asks, taking the loaf of bread I've offered him.

"Death Eaters left it for us," I say.

Harry drops the loaf as though it is a bomb about to explode. "Are you _crazy_?"

"Don't worry, we've checked it for curses. It's all clean."

Harry picks up the bread again and takes a tiny bite out of one edge which he then proceeds to chew for an extraordinary amount of time. Swallowing, licking his lips, and waiting for something to happen, he finally deems the food safe and stuffs the bread into his mouth.

"So I've been thinking," Harry says conversationally.

"Oh? Didn't hurt yourself, did you?" I say crisply, smiling at him.

He scowls at me, but continues as if he didn't hear me. "We need to go back to Hogwarts."

I freeze and slowly bring my eyes up to meet his. "You want to go _back_?"

"We have to, don't we? We don't have any other place to go."

"And how would you know that?" I ask. "I thought you were unconscious."

Now, for the first time, Harry loses his beat. He turns his eyes down to the food and I can sense a tightness about him. "In Hogwarts. . . I heard things. And also. . . the nightmares. . . they didn't go away. I know that Voldemort's controlling most of England and Scotland. I also knew that they knew where you guys were hiding. That's why I tried to escape. . . to warn you. . . to save you."

I decide this is a tender subject and quickly change it. "But why Hogwarts? There are Death Eaters there. . . not to mention Voldemort. . . ."

"It isn't their operating grounds," Harry says, finding his rhythm and looking back up at me. "Their base is at Malfoy Manor in London. There can't be more than 20 Death Eaters permanently staying at Hogwarts, and their main task is to guard me and the other prisoners. They won't anticipate an attack. . . they think that all of the wizards in hiding will go for the heart — Voldemort."

"But if we get control of Hogwarts. . ." I start to say, seeing where Harry is going with this.

"If we get control of Hogwarts, the Monster's got one less arm," he says matter-of-factly, taking a giant swig of Pumpkin Juice. "We can contact the other refugees and offer them shelter at the castle. If we can find someone to set up the Hogwarts defenses again, all we have to do is protect the castle from another attack, and this time no traitor will mess it all up."

I smile. Brilliant. "We need to start planning. Do you know where else the Death Eaters are calling home? Anywhere near?"

"The closest place I know of is in the English countryside. Hardly a threat."

I nod, snatching up a bit of bread and sticking it in my mouth. A few minutes later, the food is back in the bag and we are laying down together, side by side, staring up at the rugged cave ceiling.

I am about to fall asleep when a thought occurs to me, and I sit bolt upright. "Harry," I whisper, shaking his shoulders.

"Mmm," he grunts, opening his eyes groggily. "Wassamatter?"

"The traitor. . . you know who it is," I say, suddenly out of breath.

Harry awakens quickly, and sits up. "You mean you don't?"

I shake my head. "We never found out. . . ."

Harry sighs and runs a hand through his already messy hair. "You're not going to believe this," he says softly, shaking his head slowly.

Harry looks up at me and takes my hand in his. He just looks at me for a moment, seeming to forget what we were talking about. I am about to prompt him when he heaves a great sigh and bites his lower lip.

"The person who opened those gates, who betrayed us all, who killed many and sent the rest running was Michael Corner," Harry says, his voice bitter with a hint of sadness. "Member of the DA, Ginny's ex-boyfriend, newly appointed Prefect, and Cho Chang's current boyfriend."

I sit in stunned silence.

Harry lays back down and rolls to his side, his back to me. "He was there when they killed Cho. He didn't even cry," he says heavily.

I close my eyes, memories of Ginny's excitement of being with Michael echoing in my head. I turn and look to the red-head asleep on Ron's shoulder. Two years ago that boy had given her her first kiss; I remember the night it happened very clearly. Ginny had been so excited when she had rushed into the 5th year girls dorm and woken me up.

_"It was perfect, Hermione. Perfect."_

I can't understand any of it. Why would he go to Voldemort? He was in the DA. . . he knew the awful things Voldemort did. . . .

My eyelids grow heavier with each passing minute, and finally I give in to sleep and slump down at Harry's side, deciding to ponder Michael's path in the morning.

-

-

****

A/N Whew. It's been a while, eh? Yeah. . . sorry about that. . . I won't go into details, but let's just say my life has been one hell of a roller coaster these past two months. I'm awfully sorry I didn't update sooner, but I really couldn't pull myself together to complete the chapter.

JeanieBeanie33 - Yes, I do like to write tragedy stories. I think that emotions are the hardest thing to write, and I'm always up for the challenge. And tragedy is just such an emotionally-packed genre — layer after layer of feelings — that I must admit I am very drawn to it. One day I will sit down and just write a story not so. . . dramatic or angsty. . . and I'll see how it turns out. But since right now I am a 15 year old girl in the midst of high school surrounded on all sides by teenage angst and misery, tragedy is what I'll write.

Alright, guys. A big thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter (I hope you're still reading this story. . . nevermind remembering the plot. . . .) and I hope you'll drop a review and let me know what you want to happen. . . or not happen. . . either way, I'd appreciate hearing from you.

peace out

felony melanie


	5. 5

5

Someone gently shakes me awake the next morning, and I open my eyes wearily as though I haven't slept at all.

"Hermione, we're going to go down to Hogsmeade today," Harry says softly.

I blink and rub my face, sitting up. "Why?"

"Get supplies from the houses," Ron says from behind me, and I turn to see him opening up the bag of food. "This won't last us very long."

He tosses me some sweet bread and I chew on it silently, watching Harry who is leaning against the entrance of the cave, his hands in his pockets, his face pensive.

I find myself thinking about this past year, all the worrying I've been doing about Harry, all the grief that has broken my body. But now Harry is back, and I feel like I'm in some wonderful dream.

"I don't see any Death Eaters out there," Harry says.

A dream quickly shattered by reality. I stand up, brushing crumbs off of my robes, and walk to the cave entrance. Harry instinctively snakes his arm around my waist.

"Are you sure about this?" I say, leaning my head against his shoulder.

"No," he sighs. He then smiles and looks at me. "But that's what makes it fun, right?"

I smile slightly. "What if we get caught?" I ask him quietly, looking down at the beaten up old town.

Harry grabs my chin and turns my face to his. "I won't let them hurt you," he says seriously. "I won't let them even _touch _you, okay? Everything will be alright. We won't get caught, we're just going to the outskirts of the town."

His bright green eyes are so serious, so intense, that I can't help but trust him. "Okay," I say.

He leans down and kisses me, and the familiar tingle runs down my back.

"Are you two just going to snog all day or are we going to do this thing?" Ron's voice says from right next to us.

Harry pulls away from me and smiles, walking outside to the bright sunlight.

I look at Ron who is staring at me with his eyebrows raised.

"Sorry," I say hurriedly. "Let's go."

The rocks are slippery and wet, and it takes us an extraordinary amount of time to get all the way to the bottom of the mountain. When we do, we race to take cover in some trees.

Harry whispers the plan to us. "We'll go house by house. Nobody do any magic, nobody light any candles, nobody talk above a whisper. We're not taking any risks today. We take only things we need -- blankets, food, maybe a candle or two. Nothing we can't carry with us at all times." He sticks his head out from behind the giant oak tree and looks down the street. "Everybody ready?"

We all nod.

"Keep a hand on your wand at all times, but remember, no magic unless you really need to use it," Harry whispers. "Quickly, now."

He dashes out from the trees and we all race after him until we get to the first house. We find the front door open, and hurry inside.

There has obviously been a fight in here. The first room we come across is the parlor. Chairs have been knocked to their side, tables are overturned, and broken pieces of glass and wood litter the ground along with dirt and snow that has blown in from the front door.

"Bloody hell," Ron mutters, bending over and picking up a broken leg from the coffee table.

Harry, Ginny, and I continue through the house, entering the kitchen. Dishes are in the sink with brushes and sponges washing them continuously. There are full plates of food on the table, and if I didn't know better, I'd say there were people still living here.

Ginny bends over the food and plugs her nose. "It's all rotten," she says.

I go into the pantry and find cans, boxes, and bags of food. Harry, Ron, and Ginny show up next to me and immediately start rummaging through the shelves, stuffing bits of food in their pockets. I am just about to open a box of crackers when a floorboard directly above me creaks.

Harry and Ron both freeze and look up at the ceiling, and I set down the box and reach for my wand as Ginny slowly inches toward Ron.

"Stay here," Harry whispers, pulling out his wand and leaving the pantry. He disappears out the kitchen and I can hear his steady footsteps up the stairs and across the hall. Ron, Ginny, and I both watch the ceiling, listening hard, when Harry's footsteps are right above us.

I hear Harry's muffled voice say something, the floorboard creaks, and then his footsteps are coming back down the stairs.

Ron and I watch the kitchen door cautiously. Harry comes back in, and in his arms is a dirty, skinny, meowing tabby cat.

"Oh my goodness!" I cry, rushing forward and relieving Harry of the cat. It squirms a bit in my arms but soon settles down and looks up at me with wide, amber eyes.

"Poor thing," I whisper, stroking it gently. I look up at Harry and see that his face is very pale and his eyes are cast downwards. "What's wrong?"

He looks up at me, and his voice breaks slightly when he answers me. "I, uh. . . I found it with it's owner. . ." he whispers.

I glance quickly at Ron who's eyes are fierce as he looks at Harry. "What do you mean?" Ron questions hesitantly.

"I mean there's a corpse up there," Harry says, jerking his thumb upwards.

We stand in silence. Ginny quickly empties her pockets of the food. "This doesn't feel right," she says quietly.

I silently agree with her. It just doesn't feel right. Here we are, stealing from this house, and there's a dead body upstairs. The dead body of the owner of this house, nonetheless. It just doesn't feel right.

"Ron, help me go cover it up," Harry whispers.

Ron nods, and I am suddenly overwhelmed by Harry's thoughtfulness. The next thought that comes into my head is that Harry isn't being gender specific.

"Harry," I say quietly before Harry leaves the kitchen, "is it a man or a woman?"

Harry freezes, his back to me. "I can't tell," he says softly. "The body's too badly mutilated."

The words cause a tightness in my chest. I look at Ginny and I can tell that she is feeling the same thing. I snuggle the cat closer.

When Ron and Harry return, they both look like they are about to be sick.

"Let's go to a different house," Harry says. We all empty our pockets of the food, but I return to the pantry and snatch a can of cat food. "The cat will have to stay here," Harry says as I am about to put the food in my pocket.

"Why?" I snap.

"Because we can't be worrying about it. Just leave it some food out, the Death Eater's won't hurt it."

Reluctantly, I put the cat down. Ginny appears at my side with a can opener, and I open the food. The instant I put it on the ground, the cat starts devouring it. I open three more cans and turn to leave with the others.

The next house has not been wrecked, and there is no sign of a dead body anywhere, so we have no qualms about taking what food we can, deciding that whoever was living there has gone into hiding.

Our pockets bulging, we poke our heads out of the front door and cast anxious looks up and down the street.

At the far end, towards Honeydukes and Zonko's, is a dark figure simply standing in the middle of the street, alone, unmoving, his back to us.

"Death Eater," Harry growls next to me.

"Why's he just standing there?" Ginny whispers.

"Patrolling, maybe," Harry says. "He'll be there for a while."

"How do you know?" I ask, watching the dark figure.

"Look at how he's standing. He's not looking for someone or something, he's just standing there, guarding. No, he won't be gone for a few more hours. I think that it's a good idea to figure out their shifts so the next time we come down here we can maybe get into the other stores closer to the castle."

Ron sighs and turns back in to the house. Ginny follows him in, but I stay with Harry. He is holding his wand with his left hand, to keep it outside the door and pointing towards the Death Eater. I lean against the doorframe opposite him, my wand also drawn.

I watch Harry carefully, though he keeps his eyes trained on the enemy. For perhaps the first time I notice the dark circles around his eyes and the paleness to his skin as it clings to nothing but muscle and bone. His eyes themselves are empty and cold, but I can sense that somewhere deep inside of them there is a fire of anger burning to get out.

_He looks so sad_, I decide. I realize that ever since he was a child, his eyes have been losing their brightness, his spirit losing it's liveliness. When I first saw him on that train six years ago, I could see that he had been through hard times. At the end of that year, he had been through worse. But even then he managed a small façade of happiness.

That's all gone now.

I suppose his downfall began in the Shrieking Shack in our third year at Hogwarts. If Sirius hadn't escaped from Azkaban and hadn't come looking for Wormtail, perhaps Pettigrew would still be Scabbers and would still be a non-threat living in the comfort of Ron's pocket. That way he would have never run off to Voldemort and given life to the wandering spirit.

No, I can't wish that on Sirius. I can't wish that an innocent man had remained in Azkaban until his death. No, that's too horrible. But even so, Voldemort would not be back.

The pain in Harry's eyes is all too real. I can't wish that something else had happened, I can only help him through the present, the reality.

I gently push back a strand of hair from my face and tuck it behind my ear, my eyes now stinging slightly with unshed tears.

But I can't help but wish that things had happened differently. If they had, I might still have my parents. . . .

Despite my desperate attempts to keep it in, a tear leaks out of the corner of my eye and runs coolly down my cheek. Harry notices in a heartbeat.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" he asks, stepping towards me, all the pain in his eyes now masked in concern.

I shake my head and wipe my face with my hand. The earlier feeling of peace at having Harry back has been replaced by the familiar loneliness of not having parents.

"Hermione," Harry whispers now, his arms circling me and pulling me to his warm chest, "what are you thinking about?"

"Everything's so wrong," I sob into the fabric of his robes.

"I know," he agrees, nestling his chin in my hair. "It'll get better, though."

"No it won't," I say a bit more angrily than I intended to. "How can it get better? Even if we somehow manage to get Hogwarts, I still won't have my parents back. I won't have a _home_. I won't have someone to be proud of me or share Christmas with me or do normal parents stuff with. . . ." I trail off, realizing that I am preaching to the choir.

Harry holds me tighter. "I know it's hard, I know," he comforts. "But you have me, and I'm proud of you always. I know I'm not nearly a replacement or compensation or anything like that, but I'm here for you, and as long as my heart is beating, I will love you. Please don't be sad that your parents are gone, be glad that now they can see you all the time, even in the Wizarding World. And even if they're not physically here, they're still proud of you and nothing will change that."

I cling to his robes, my eyes shut tight and the sobs slowly receding.

"You are beautiful and smart and. . . Hermione, I need you now," he says. "I need you by my side, I need you to be strong for me because I can't do this by myself, I don't know how to do this by myself. You've helped me through so many things, but I need you now more than ever, and I know that somehow we can get through this. But I need you to stop thinking about the past because I hate it when you're sad or in pain and I hate that I can't keep you from being sad. I'm trying my hardest here to do the right thing, but you've always been my lighthouse in the darkness, and I need you to be here for me." His voice is so sad and worried that I am certain that I can feel the anguish inside of him.

I lift my head and cradle it in the crook of his neck, my right hand on the back of his neck, my left hand on his shoulder. "I'm here for you, Harry," I whisper quietly.

In one swift motion his lips have found mine and we kiss, a seemingly desperate attempt to wipe away the sadness in our lives and remember what it is to be teenagers. My left hand is on his chest, and through the fabric of his robes I can feel his heart beating. When we separate, I remain in his arms, deciding that it is the safest place in the world to be.

And I remain there until just before sunset, when the Death Eater finally leaves his post and Harry notes the time.

We find Ron and Ginny inside playing with an old chess set with broken pieces.

"He's gone," Harry informs them. "Now all we have to do is strategize how we're going to get into Hogwarts."

We lock eyes as we both realize how hard this is going to be.

"Alright," Ron says, slapping his hands together and rubbing fiercely, "let's kick some Death Eater butt and show them that we mean business."

"If business doesn't mean us getting killed," Ginny quietly adds.

We all crack weak smiles though none of truly find it funny at all.

"Don't worry," Harry says, attempting to break the sudden melancholy, "Hogwarts has been witness to too many deaths. The castle will not see ours."

Later I wonder how Harry can possible show so much heart when his has been broken so many times. And I silently swear an oath that I'll keep it from breaking any further. Harry's right, the carnage has gone on for too long. It's time to change the tide. It's time to shift the sails. It's time to. . . .

Oh, hell. It's just time to do the fighting we've supposed to have been doing.

Suicide mission or not, I will not go down as a scampering coward. Running has been wearing my legs out. It's about time that my wand got a little bit of the exercise.

**

* * *

* * *

**

A/N Wow. I am SUCH a bad person! It's summer and I haven't updated for a looooooooooong time…. Geeze. I'm so sorry, guys. A lot has been happening, and writing for this story has kind of taken a back seat. As soon as the title for HP 6 was released, I started work on that. And then I started work on my own original novel. Then on MNI (Mugglenet Interactive) I found out that someone was plagiarizing my story "The Will to Survive." The idiot didn't even have the sense to change the title. Sheesh. So I sorted that out. In the midst of that I went traveling to the coast and then to Washington with my family, and now I'm back and I finished this chapter. Can you see how my style has kind of changed? Hmm. Maybe not. Oh well. So, no promises about the next chapter.

Please don't hurt me for taking so long!

peace

felony melanie


	6. 6

6

It is early in the morning. Snowflakes are silently falling around us. My joints are stiff, my skin is icy, my mind is racing.

The door to Honeydukes is just in front of me. The glass was broken long ago, and the shop was ransacked of pretty much everything inside. I can remember so clearly how lively the store was, packed with students and every type of candy you could imagine. An overwhelming sadness has engulfed me. No more Honeydukes' Best Chocolate. No more Ice Mice. No more Fizzing Whizbees. No more Cockroach Clusters. Actually, I didn't like those at all, so that's no real loss.

But still. It's just not _right_.

"So, um, are we going in?" Ron asks from my left. We've been standing there for nearly five minutes.

"Give me a sec," I reply, struggling to control my nerves and force myself to be ready for what's going to happen.

A minute later Ron speaks again. "Are we ready now?"

"No," Ginny says quickly, a faint quaiver in her voice. She sighs heavily. "Yes."

Harry starts nodding excessively, and I note that he's probably trying to psych himself out for this rather than express his agreement.

He claps his hands together. "Let's do this!" he says enthusiastically, shooting us all a largely over-the-top grin.

We walk into the shop, past the wrecked cash register, and down the steps into the basement. It appears that the hidden trap door was not discovered.

Harry and Ron quickly open it, and I slide in first, followed by Ginny, Ron, and then Harry. I start the long descent, lost in the rhythm of our footsteps tapping the stone steps.

I start jogging when we reach flat ground, desperate to get warm before my first duel. There's no sound except our muffled footsteps against the dusty stone, our silent gasps for air, and the whipping of our robes around us. My mind couldn't be louder.

It doesn't seem like that much later when I come upon the stone slide.

"I'll go up first," Harry says determinedly. He pushes past the rest of us and scrambles up the slide, his wand tight in his right hand. I watch him from below as he gets to the top and opens the hump of the One-Eyed Witch. He pokes his head out, looks both ways, then ducks back down. "It's clear," he whispers to us.

I start climbing up the slide as Harry pulls himself out through the opening. He helps me out onto solid ground, then helps Ginny and Ron as well.

As soon as my feet are on solid ground, I wish I was back in the tunnel. I don't know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't this.

It appears that the Death Eater's haven't bothered to remove the evidence of the massacre that happened here one year ago. Bloody, disfigured, dead bodies litter the floor in pools of dried blood and maggots.

The smell is worse than the sight.

Bile rises in my throat and I close my eyes and turn towards Harry. Judging by a muffled sob coming from my left, I can tell that Ginny has buried her face in Ron's shoulder.

Harry puts a comforting arm around my shoulder. "Let's get to Gryffindor Tower, we can plan our next step from there."

Swallowing hard and stiffening my resolve, I nod curtly and cling tightly to my wand as we navigate ourselves around the corpses. I try my best not to look them in the faces. I don't want to see if I recognize anyone.

It's hard to stay alert in the midst of so much death. I have to keep reminding myself to stay on the lookout for Death Eaters and to ignore the bodies around me. But any wariness concerning possible enemies is dashed at the sight of a small, blonde head face down in the stone, a wand clutched in the right hand and a Gryffindor scarf around his neck.

Ginny has seen it too. "Dennis Creevey," she mutters softly.

We stop our progress down the hall and take a moment to pay our respects to the lifeless body. Harry is silent next to me. That little boy and his brother were Harry's biggest fans. Muggleborn and anxious about magic, they looked up to Harry like some sort of god.

"He didn't deserve this," Ron says.

I blink hard, attempting to hinder the rush of tears fighting to escape.

"Let's keep moving," Harry says a moment later. His left hand snakes out and grasps my right arm, tugging me along the carnage.

We are rounding a corner to the staircase when Harry shoves me back and dives out of view behind the nearest statue. Listening, I can hear the soft tapping of shoes on the distant end of the corridor. I keep an eye on Harry as I listen to the footsteps getting closer. Ron and Ginny are doing the same as me, their wands out in front of them.

And then, the most horrible thing happens. We hear more footsteps coming down the hallway we've just come from. I can't count how many pairs of feet there are, but there are a lot.

I can see Harry silently curse to himself as he peers out from around the statue. I can see his left hand, and he hold up three fingers. I elbow Ron in the ribs who in turn elbows Ginny. We all watch for Harry's signal.

He has two fingers up. The footsteps are much too close.

As if in slow motion, he drops a finger and leaps out from behind the statue. "_Stupefy!_" he yells. I can hear the heavy thud of a body falling to the ground as I jump around the corner and yell my own curse. I too hit a Death Eater. It appears that they are too surprised to react. There are two left in that hallway.

But the Death Eaters coming from the other direction have started running at the sound of the curses. They soon round the corner into our hallway, and Ginny and Ron shout their curses. These Death Eaters are ready, and easily deflect their spells.

Meanwhile the two Harry and I are dealing with easily fall among their comrades. We turn and begin dueling with the other Death Eaters. A blast from one of their wands whizzes past my ear. More Death Eaters pile out from around the corner.

Harry seizes a fist-full of my robes, recognizing, as I have, that we are far too outnumbered. "RUN!" he yells, pulling me off around the corner at a full sprint.

Ron and Ginny lower their wands and run after us. I can hear the pounding of the Death Eater's footsteps not far behind.

Harry rips a tapestry clean off the wall and lunges through it, going down the stairs at top speed, his clutch tight on my robes. We make a sharp left at the bottom of the stairs and run along a thin, dark hallway, probably one of Fred and George's secret passages. I can hear footsteps behind me, and I pray that it's Ron and Ginny.

We take another sharp left and come to more stairs. We run down them, and then I hear something that makes my heart stop.

"_Stupefy!_"

A soft, strangled cry.

A thud as a body hits the ground.

"GINNY!" Ron screams.

My blood runs cold. There's no way we can carry her out of the castle and escape the Death Eaters at the same time. We have to leave her behind.

Harry and I slow to a stop, and share a fearful look that lasts an eternity.

**To Be Continued . . . .**

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**A/N **Uhm, yeah... that was way too friggin' short. Sorry.

But cliffie's make the world go round, people!

Review, por favor!

felony melanie


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